


Recovery

by MultiVerSonalityDisorder



Category: 28 Days (2000)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gay, M/M, Post-Film, Recovery, Romance, Sobriety, Starting Over, after-rehab, mentions of drug abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiVerSonalityDisorder/pseuds/MultiVerSonalityDisorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen and Gerhardt are out and about in the world and ten months later, they have to step up to bat as each day challenges them to remain sober. GerhardtXOC and GwenXOC (eventually). A 28 Days fan fiction. Rated 16 plus!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reginald and Restrictions

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a 28 Days fan fiction for everyone. I greatly enjoyed the film and I love Gerhardt to death. I also love that he has an ending scene with Gwen. (Alan Tudyk is my favorite American actor and I love Sandra Bullock). Anyhow, I don't own anything. Not the plot from the film 28 Days, not the characters from the film 28 Days, etc. I do own the plot of this fiction as well as the character Reginald.

"I’ve met someone."

Sitting at Gwen’s circular table within her cramped kitchen of her small apartment, being nearly ten months sober with plenty of struggles, she was fixing up her own cup of tea at the counter as her special guest sat with his cup in hand. Gerhardt had come to visit that afternoon, as he often did since that fateful day in the plant shop. He had a bright smile on his face as though he was telling a dirty secret, his cheeks flushed as he looked into his brew. Gwen, however, simply rose a brow as she turned to face him, back leaning against the counter as she stirred her tea, hair up in a messy ponytail to compliment her rolled up hoodie and sweatpants.

"Met someone?" she parroted. "Where?"

Smile twisting a bit, the blonde’s eyes closed as if in remembrance as he shrugged a shoulder, head tilting to the side to meet it halfway in gesture, “At the library.”

"And, by ‘met’ someone you mean?"

Gerhardt almost scoffed as his eyes flew open, he placed a hand over his heart and replied, “It means what it means, Gwen. It wasn’t a hook up.” He shifted in his seat, staring at his arms revealed by the rolled up sleeves of his jungle green jacket. “We haven’t even gone on a date, yet.”

Noticing the dejected look on his face as he took a sip of his tea, Gwen sighed, sitting down at the table across from him and gently grabbing hold of his free hand that lied in the center, stroking the knuckles apologetically, “I’m sorry, Gerhardt. It’s just…we’ve got to watch each other’s backs. I trust you to watch mine, and we need to take in consideration as to what Cornell said.”

"It’s a suggestion," he pouted. "Not a rule."

Again, Gwen sighed, a half-smile playing at her lips. “He’s been a recovering addict longer than either of us,” she stated sincerely, her grip on his palm tightening, “and I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to ignore help or advice from anyone ever again. We both want to be happy, and I want you to be happy.”

Biting the inside of his lip with furrowed brows, it was a moment before Gerhardt returned the grip, turning his hand so palms were meeting and his fingers caressing the underside of her wrist, “I want you to be happy, too.”

Her grin growing full-throttle, she took a sip of her tea before asking, “How’s Baron?”

Gerhardt huffed, “I tell you, Gwen, that dog does not like me sometimes. He never listens.”

She giggled, “He’s an animal; they never listen.”

"When are you getting a pet?"

"I’ll get one soon. My Golden Pothos is still kicking, so I’ll have to look into it."

"Get a cat," he blurted, and that caused another chuckle to slip from Gwen’s lips.

"So," she rolled her shoulders back, chin lifting up as she set her cup down, palm cradling the butt of her chin, "tell me about this ‘someone’."

At that, Gerhardt’s back snapped straight before he leaned in, both hands now capturing hers, “He’s gorgeous, Gwen” He gestured around his ear, “He’s got beautiful waves of hair, very dark. His eyes are large round orbs of steely gray. He’s very tall,” he gestured his arm length above his head. “He’s got a bit of meat on him, but his body is so narrow.” He inhaled dramatically, “Gwen, he’s an angel.”

"So, I see," she smirked. "I’ve never heard anyone describe another person in such a colorful way. So, what’s his name?"

"Reggie. Well, Reginald, but he prefers Reggie."

"And, how did you begin with this ‘meeting of’?"

Head lolling back, Gerhardt released a whine of joy, “It was romantic, like a movie.” His hands shot up, eyes looking into the not so distant past, “We were in the audio-tape section, and I wasn’t paying attention, because I was trying to find something to interest me, and the next thing I knew, our hands touched.” Gwen tried not to release a giggle at her friend’s enthusiasm. “He said, ‘sorry’; I said, ‘sorry’. Then, we just started talking. We have so much in common and he gave me his number.”

"Exciting. Are you going to call him then?"

That was when Gerhardt fell a bit silent. He looked to Gwen with pitiful eyes, “I want to.”

"But?"

The blonde slumped back in his seat, huffing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been laid.”

"You and me both," Gwen snorted, patting his hand. "So, why is that an issue?"

"I’m…a little scared…" Gerhardt admitted with a sniffle. "What if I’m so physically needy I…take anything he gives to me?"

At this, Gwen’s brows shot up, her back straightened as her voice sounded a bit shaky, “Gerhardt, is he a user?”

"No! Well, I don’t….know…" he shook his head. "If he is though…I’m so…and we hit it off…and….before…" He heaved a sigh, "Back then, sex and drugs…I don’t remember what ‘normal’ sex is like. Everything was a blur, but I know it felt so amazing… Look!" he shoved his arm across the table, "I’m getting goosepimples all over just remembering!"

"Oh, Gerhardt," Gwen cooed sympathetically. Her hands found themselves on his arm, rubbing at it gently in comfort and smoothing the bumps on his skin away.

Inhaling with a quivering breath, lips trembling, Gerhardt continued, “What if I can’t…perform? Without the drugs, what if I’m useless? What if I’m boring?”

"You’re not boring, Gerhardt. I love spending time with you. You make me laugh, you have an excellent sense of humor, and your way of thinking and speaking is different than the average bear."

The corners of the blonde’s lips upturned for a split second before he frowned once more, “But, what if I’m boring on the date? I might be a good friend, but what about love partner?”

"First, everyone has that fear.  _Everyone_. Nobody wants to be boring on a date,” she reached up to grab his chin softly, looking into his eyes. “Second, you were interesting enough during the conversation that he gave you his number. Third, try not think too far ahead about it. Saying ‘love partner’ when you still don’t know the guy that well…things might work out, but he may end up being a total jackass on the date. Remember, Gerhardt, one step at a time. One day at a time. You don’t need to rush into this.”

Gripping onto the hand that was holding his chin, there was a glossiness in his eyes as he smiled pathetically, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Thank you, Gwen. I’m…such a mess,” he rubbed at his eye. “I’m so thankful I ran into you, again.”

"Me, too," she grinned.

Wiping once more at his eyes, Gerhardt gave a chuckle, “Is there anyone new in your life?”

"No, but there’s about to be."

There was a smirk on her face and at that the blonde jumped, “What do you mean?”

"Well, my sister…" Gwen trailed off, her smirk growing and Gerhardt’s eyes lit up, hand flying up to his gaping mouth.

"A baby?!"

"Yes!"

"Oh, that’s so wonderful!" the tears started to form once more as the blonde’s other hand found itself over his heart. "Aunt Gwen! That’s so perfect! I’m so happy! Congratulations!" He took hold of both of her hands, gripping tightly and making her giggle. "Babies are so precious."

Her lips curling sheepishly, Gwen nodded, “I know. It’s crazy to think about it, but…a new life…”

"You know, I think you’d be a good mother."

At that, Gwen paused before snorting a laugh, “Yeah, right.”

"I mean it, Gwen."

"Gerhardt, I wouldn’t know anything about being a mom. My own mother wasn’t much of a mother, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I was suddenly handed a baby."

"Watch your sister. Learn from your sister," he patted her hand. "Ask for help, Gwen. Your little niece or nephew is going to need someone to look up to."

The woman shook her head, brows furrowed as she tried to shrug off a nasty feeling in her stomach, “I wouldn’t necessarily be the greatest role model, y’know.”

Huffing, Gerhardt grew rigid before slouching, his voice sounding rough as he spoke each word with a forceful meaning, “You changed. You changed for the better. You struggled. You are a good person. You fixed your mistakes. That is a good role model.”

"You know what else makes a good role model?"

"What?"

"Someone who stays sober."

There was a long pause, as even though they just discussed this, it didn’t mean that once it was mentioned and written off, it was completely done and over. It was going to be a constant fear for the rest of their lives. Gerhardt’s thumb caressed her smooth flesh, and he sighed, “We’ll get through it. We’ll work on it together.”

* * *

In the reflection of the mirror, he could see his brows furrowing and with that his frustration grew. As his fingers worked up his half-sleeve carmine button-up, they trembled fiercely. It took him more than a minute to successfully slip one of the copper pieces through the slit, and he could feel the sweat accumulating along his brow line and neck. It was pitiful, but halfway through he had to stop himself from throwing a fit. His cheeks were reddening with the anxiety and worry of all his insecurities, and then he was feeling it. He was feeling that urge, that need to make his heart stop racing for any reason aside from a good time. Looking at his hands as he leaned forwards against the bathroom counter, the knuckles white from gripping the edge, he could see them quivering, his wrists, and up the bones of his arms. His jaw was starting to feel it and he clenched his teeth hard as he inhaled deeply. He started to hum, shake his head and his eyes peeked to glance at his watch.

"Shit," he grumbled. He was going to be late if he didn’t hurry, but… Maybe he should call it off? No, Reggie should already be on his way over.  _Should_. What if he wasn’t? What if he wasn’t going to show?

Gerhardt’s stomach was churning, a cold sweat encasing him and he hurriedly slipped out of his shirt, throwing it on the floor and stomping to his bedroom. He’d need a new one at this point less he attend with pit-stains. That would be  _most_  impressive.

Half throwing his drawer door open, he picked up the first shirt he saw and slammed the drawer shut, desk rattling and thudding against the wall, creating a small dent in the tomato paint. He undid the buttons, shirt now a nice citrine color. It seemed a bit calmer than the shade of red earlier, and somehow that set him at ease just a bit.

Should he call Gwen? They did say they would help each other when they found themselves at a loss, but he didn’t want to bother her. She made him promise to give her a call if he felt overwhelmed by this whole date idea, but he knew he also needed to work on being independent. Think about it, how was he to explain to this man just how dependent he was on this, caring, woman he met in rehab? Perhaps he would be understanding, Reggie seemed like a kind-hearted soul. Though, there was never really telling. And, Gerhardt had to prepare his heart for that no matter how much he dreaded the thought.

However, he supposed that informing someone he was a recovering addict was far better than informing them that he was still an addict. That had to be a plus. But, would that make him even halfway decent dating material?

He shook his head for the umpteenth time that night, glowering as he buttoned the last button. His wall-clock chimed and he cursed under his breath once more. He scurried, frantically searching for his nice sneakers. He stubbed his toes into the corner of his bedpost, cursing once, twice more as he held his foot, leaning against his mattress with a sniffle in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair and he removed his glasses, wiping the tear stains off the lens with the bottom of his shirt. He rubbed at his eyes, inhaled and stood. He wasn’t going to let this defeat him. He had to think back on what he went through with everyone at the rehab center. Daniel, Eddie, Bobbie Jean, Roshanda, Oliver, and Andrea. He had to do his best. There was so much Andrea could have done if she hadn’t used that last time. He didn’t blame her, because at this moment that was all he craved, but he couldn’t let it win. Andrea showed him that he couldn’t let it win over him. He had to beat it, for Andrea. For all those who got their “one more time”.

Inhaling deeply, he replaced his glasses upon the bridge of his nose, stood and kneeled to fetch the sneakers under his bed. Grabbing them, he grabbed his keys upon his night desk, and he slipped out of his room, switching the light off and closing the door behind him. He had to beat this.

**To Be Continued…**


	2. Evening Of

It was a small, quiet little café. A bit on the fancy side, as it should be with how high the costs were for their products. It was practically outrageous!

However, it was eight o’clock, and Gerhardt was waiting patiently at one of the tables beside the windows. Perched on a high stool, his eyes kept to the entrance, his heart racing in his ears so loudly he couldn’t hear the bustling that was only beginning to die down a bit. His knees were trembling and his throat dry, but he didn’t want to order anything and appear impatient. That would be rude, wouldn’t it? Or, maybe he could get away with it…

It was then that a semi-familiar face caught his vision. Gerhardt stiffened in posture, breath pausing momentarily as he attempted a smile as the man he was waiting for waved over to him, walking towards him with a confident air that had Gerhardt’s stomach churning. This dark haired Adonis that held half a foot against Gerhardt. Dressed in a dark green plaid button up under a navy colored pea coat, and simple grey jeans with cognac shoes; the copper-tinted blonde was beginning to feel an unbearable sensation.

“Hey, there,” the smile was light and soft, eyes bright as he stood beside the table. “How’re you this evening, Gerhardt?”

“Fine,” he blurted before smiling nervously as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Er, well, I’m well. Thank you, Reggie.”

Chuckling, the dark haired man nudged his head as he rose a brow in inquiry, “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Yes! Er, n-no, not all. Seat yourself, please.”

Shrugging his jacket off, his eyes landed on the table and suddenly he frowned. Gerhardt noticed the change in the other man’s expression and his heart sank. “You didn’t get anything for yourself?”

“Ah, no,” the answer came out slow, thoughtful as Gerhardt tried to piece his mind together. “I was…waiting for you. Didn’t want to…seem like I was waiting, impatiently, or something…”

“Were you here long?”

Waving his hand, the strawberry-blonde shook his head, “No. No, I’ve only been here for a little while.”

“Oh, good, then,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, still not taking his seat as he gave a half-smile, “should I go get us something, then?”

Brows shooting up, Gerhardt’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped to speak. He silently formed syllables with his lips before he nodded, “Y-Yes. Thank you. If you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. What would you like? Coffee? Tea? A million dollars?”

Snorting at the last suggestion, Gerhardt shrugged with an unavoidable smile tugging on his lips, “The last one sounds good, but I’ll go with tea. Hot raspberry, please?”

With a little bow, Reginald turned on his heel and made his way to the shop counter. Gerhardt settled on his stool, shoulders falling as his heart began to calm itself. He wanted this to end on a high note, but he wondered if he was being natural? He knew his anxiety was showing, he was stumbling moreso than when he first met this gentleman, but so much more was on the line now. Or, that’s how it seemed. He tried to smooth out his breathing, and he almost didn’t catch the way Reginald peeked over at him over his shoulder before quickly focusing his attention to the cashier. Gerhardt smiled to himself with an almost agonizing need to cry. So far it looked like things were off to a good start.

**To Be Continued...!**


	3. Cat Got Your Tongue

“Here you are, one hot raspberry tea,” Reginald handed Gerhardt a styrofoam cup with a smile, brow raised as if he had just performed some daring mission to show how much of a conquering hero he truly was.

Gerhardt took it with a bob of his head in thanks, lips twitching as his date sat across from him with his own cup in hand. The red-tinted blonde adjusted his glasses, his throat feeling abnormally dry and heart racing in his ears while the juices in his stomach thrashed about like a storm. “What did you get?” his inquiry slipped quickly before he could consider his words at all. Instantly, fear struck him as he felt his features burn, his body temperature rising uncomfortably.

However, Reginald’s smile didn’t fade in the least. He shrugged, eyes falling to his beverage as he answered, “Just a simple hot chocolate.”

Fingers trembling around the cup, Gerhardt pushed with quivering lips, “Y-You like chocolate, then?”

“Yeah, but only in small amounts. Hot chocolate is different from solid chocolate, though. The flavor and sweetness are on completely different levels, so I can drink more hot chocolate as opposed to eating a lot of chocolate candy.” He straightened up in his seat and took a sip, “You drink a lot of tea?”

Gerhardt almost didn’t hear the question, he cleared his throat, leaning over as his eyes darted about on Reginald’s face, everywhere but his eyes, “A-Ah, um, yes. I’ve been trying to. I, well, I f-find it very soothing.”

“Have you tried it with milk? I hear that adding milk makes it very smooth.”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve never thought to…I’ll try to remember that for next time when I’m at home.”

“Awesome.”

Silence fell between the two men. Reginald sat back, slouching a bit as he sipped at his beverage, while Gerhardt leaned forward on his elbows, mandible shaking as he tried to will his teeth to not clack together. His mind was racing and without a second thought, he sipped the tea quickly in a gulp, letting out a cry as he slammed the cup down, some tea slipping from the sides of his mouth as he winced and swallowed the remaining liquid down his throat. Reginald quickly snapped to attention, leaning over and placing one hand on Gerhardt’s shoulder while the other hand set to work with a napkin and wiping away the drink that stained Gerhardt’s lips.

“Are you okay? Here,” he set the napkin in Gerhardt’s hand and slipped off his stool. “Let’s go to the bathroom and get you some water.”

Gerhardt tried to shake his head, but Reginald wouldn’t stand for it. He took the foreign man by the elbow and hand, off of his stool and led him into the men’s restroom. While Gerhardt sipped at the cool water that ran from the sink, Reginald grabbed a few pieces of papertowel and ran them under the faucet as well. He glanced to Gerhardt, who was still wincing, and sighed as he started to squeeze out some of the excess liquid in the parchment.

“Are you all right? It must have hurt.”

Gerhardt glanced up at the mirror, not having any energy to look directly over at Reginald. In his own reflection he could see how red his face was, how wet his cheeks and eyes were from the tears alone. He slipped off his glasses as he closed his eyes, sipping a handful of water slowly and remaining silent.

The other man turned to face Gerhardt, placing a comforting hand on his back as he spoke softly, “How’s your throat?”

Gerhardt attempted to respond once, twice, and his voice cracked before he was able to get out a choked, “I’m fine.”

With a lopsided grin and brows furrowed, Reginald’s hand slid upwards, feeling the racing heartbeat of the blonde man through his back, he whispered, “You spilled some on your shirt. Let me try to get it out.”

Slowly rising from his slouched over position, Gerhardt looked down and tugged his shirt away from his person to notice that a stain had settled itself on his shirt. A few actually, bigger than a quarter from his chest to his abdomen. He looked to his date who quickly set to work with the wet instrument, trying to rub the stains out.

“I’m sorry,” Gerhardt croaked, face still flushed and new tears starting to settle in his eyes. “I’ve always been a little clumsy.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Reginald urged with a serious tone. “It was an accident, it happens sometimes. I’ve done it once or twice myself. I’m the one who’s sorry for not being able to do anything more. I know it hurts quite a bit.” His eyes flickered up momentarily before back to their task at hand, “Besides, a part of me feels a bit guilty. With this, I get to see you without your glasses on.”

“My glasses…?”

There was a chuckle, “You look really cute without them.”

It took a minute or so for the words to register in Gerhardt’s mind. He didn’t know what had become of this situation. His nerves were on end and he felt as though his heart was about to call it quits. It wasn’t until Reginald turned to the faucet to rewet the papertowel that he was finally able to say, “Thank you.”

Blinking at the sound of his voice, the taller man smiled and rung out his tool once more, “It’s nothing. But, if you want to call it a night after we clean up, I’d understand. We can reschedule for another time.”

“No, we don’t have to,” Gerhardt whispered. “I’m fine. I don’t want to reschedule.”

Facing the injured copper-tinted blonde, Reginald rose a brow, “Are you sure?”

With a smile tugging at his lips, Gerhardt felt a warmth grow in the middle of his chest as he stated, “Absolutely.”

**To Be Continued...!**


	4. Our Night

With the night ending, Gerhardt stumbled into his room, flipping the switch to his light on and trudging to his bed. The pawsteps of his canine companion shuffled in as his body hit his mattress. He sighed heavily, feeling nagging nails itch at his leg, “Not now, Baron.”

There was a snort of displeasure and Gerhardt wanted to release at least a chuckle, but his throat was still sore from his mistake at the café. He wanted to call Gwen and tell her how everything went, but his voice was cracking every time he attempted to say even a syllable. If he called his friend up now, he would only want to continue for hours and hours, and there was no way his throat was going to make it to the end.

His heart was still fluttering, a warmth in his cheeks that made his head dizzy. He rolled onto his back, kicking off his shoes and the events that took place during this date presented themselves like a slideshow as he closed his eyes, a smile engraved on his features.

Gerhardt was stubborn, and he insisted time and again that he did not want to leave things unfinished between him and Reginald. However, without his voice, conversation was complicated, but it was Reggie that came up with the idea of writing notes to one another. It was a bit silly, but the uninjured member of the party walked up to the counter, asking for some napkins and to borrow a pen. When he returned, grinning, he quickly settled onto his stool and scribbled down a thought before sliding it over to Gerhardt who was trying not to giggle at the ridiculousness of their situation. Taking the pen, he replaced his glasses on his nose and looked over the letters etched into the rough parchment.

_So, what do you do for a living?_

That was a tricky question, but he answered it in brevity.

_Dancer. You?_

For a second, Reginald seemed a bit disappointed in the short response, hitting Gerhardt at the soft spot in his chest and making him feel the slightest bit guilty. He was almost afraid of what the other man was going to say, and bit his lip as he was given the response while Reginald took a sip of his hot chocolate.

_I’m a postal carrier. What sort of dancing, may I ask?_

_How long have you been a carrier? Is it hard?_

Hesitantly, his hand stilled as the pen hovered over the napkin. He sucked in his bottom lip and added.

_Musical performances._

With a curious brow, Reginald took the napkin and smiled a bit before he responded.

 _You mean like “_ Cats _”? And, yes, it’s physically taxing, but it pays well with good enough benefits._

Gerhardt snorted.

_Something like that. How did you get to be one?_

_My aunt was a mail carrier and got me the job._

_So, you took it because it was there?_

_Something like that. Did you always want to be a dancer?_

Gerhardt flipped to the unused side of the napkin for space.

_Yes. What about you? Did you want to be something besides a mail carrier?_

_Everything. Like a lot of kids._

_I think that’s swell. It leaves a lot of mystery to life._

A lopsided grin took over Reginald’s features.

_Yeah, I guess it does. What do you like to do?_

That stumped Gerhardt. Most of his days were filled with the decision as to whether or not he should be engaging in the activities that drove him to his most desperate level. Even knowing full well as to what would happen to him, he would always think on them whenever his mind went silent. But, he couldn’t quite tell Reginald that, could he? At least not yet.

_Nothing much. I guess I’m a little boring._

_I find that doubtful. You say you’re a dancer, and I’ve liked our talks. I don’t think you’re boring at all._

_That’s because you don’t know everything about me._

_I’d like a chance to._

That line both elated and terrified Gerhardt. Instantly, he responded with:

_What is your schedule like? Mine is a bit wonky, but I can try to find some stability, if I have to._

_My days off are Sundays and every eight days. I usually get off by five, but sometimes I have to work later. Especially during the holidays._

There wasn’t any room left, so Gerhardt kept the napkin he had close to him as he started on a new piece of parchment.

_Are you doing anything next Sunday?_

_I don’t believe I am. Are you wanting to do something then?_

_Do you like films?_

_I do._

_Then, would you like to catch a film next Sunday with me?_

_I’d love to._

Seeing the smile on Gerhardt’s face, Reginald reached over and snatched the napkin before the copper-tinted blonde could reply. Gerhardt was curious as the other furiously wrote out, even scratched out, something that he wasn’t even sure he was going to like. However, he was pleasantly surprised when it was handed back to him. He bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from beaming like an idiot.

_When your throat gets better, ~~I’d like you to~~ if you’d like you can call me. It’d be nice to hear your voice. Though, I do think these notes are fun._

_Sure. I’d like that._

And, just like that, the night continued. The two parted at the café, and in the dark of the alley Reginald snuck a kiss to Gerhardt’s cheek. Something the shorter man never expected, but cherished nonetheless.

Now here he lied, Baron pawing at the edge of the bed for attention, his hand in his front pocket with his fingers gripping onto the note he kept from this evening, and his throat and mouth feeling uncomfortably scratchy and dry. In a way, Gerhardt was thankful for the way things had turned out. Being able to think about what he was going to say before saying it was helpful for him. He had been terrified of the thought of blurting out something absurd and scaring off poor Reggie. To think that the man would be kind enough to be willing to put up with something as ridiculous as notes in a café. He couldn’t wait to tell Gwen about this.

**To Be Continued...!**


End file.
